


Dr. Feel Good

by LetMeBeHoney



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, F/F, Hate Sex, Love/Hate, One Shot, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some Humor, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 07:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12953862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetMeBeHoney/pseuds/LetMeBeHoney
Summary: Dr. O'Deorain doesn't take too kindly to her work being questioned, especially by Dr. Ziegler, and sometimes you just gotta fuck your work rival.





	Dr. Feel Good

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written a fic in like four years and i shart this out cause i'm a lonely lesbian lmao. partly inspired by throwing around ideas with a friend in the twitter dm's and this artwork! 
> 
> https://twitter.com/KinnyPie/status/938229727659208704
> 
> anyway talk to me about moicy and gay ow shit please.

"What are you on about?" The redhead mumbled through gritted teeth, clearly annoyed and frustrated that her work had been interrupted.

"I was just observing that Mr. Shimada's results were out of the ordinary, this has nothing to do with you Moira," Angela stated plainly, the hand on her hip having dropped to lean on the table behind her.

"That's Dr. O'Deorain; You should know, Dr. Ziegler."

Angela had a difficult time putting into words just how much she hated Moira. It wasn't just her haughty nature, the Irish woman seeming to have an aura comprised entirely of superiority complex issues. It wasn't even the way she enunciated her words, putting an almost annoying amount of effort into speaking as clearly as possible (although Angela should've known she'd talk this way judging by her textbook perfect posture that she refused to drop at any time). It wasn't even the fact that seeing "that bird nosed bitch" be allowed to continue her cruel and sometimes violent studies infuriated her so much that she had been lobbying to get them shut down behind the scenes. No, Angela hated Moira for all those reasons combined, but most of all, she couldn't stand her callousness and the fact that it was well deserved.

Angela wasn't at first threatened by her presence or possibility of competition. They'd first been scouted for Overwatch at around the same time, going through the training process side by side. While Ziegler was a star medical student, aiming to help on the battlefield and after, O'Deorain had a different approach, instead choosing to work behind closed doors with efforts to change how the battle itself functioned. Angela had been happy to hear that, inevitably, Moira's work would come into contact with her's, but it wasn't long before the world found out the lengths she wanted to go. They were young at the time, though, and Angela assumed that Overwatch would eventually weed out the "bad eggs" and she wouldn't have to worry about her coworker doing harm. Foolish, as many would say, was she to not realize that Overwatch wasn't dumb enough to let go of one of their brightest scientists. And Moira flourished for a time, her controversial methods drawing critics, though eventually the financial backing followed. And damn was her work ever brilliant, the older finding methods and research that Angela couldn't even dream of; It made her sick.

Much to Angela's chagrin, the two of them had been assigned to watch over the medical aspects of the Shimada project, Overwatch's latest move towards wiping out the ancient clan. They had recently acquired the horrifically injured but still breathing youngest son of the late boss of the clan, and they planned to use him as a weapon. While Angela of course had trouble reconciling her feelings about the ethical nature of this project, Moira of course flourished, and the two of them had worked together to rebuild a man to be faster and stronger than what human physical training was capable of. The actual construction of his new body and the physical therapy to follow had long since passed, and now they had moved on to training him to be their own perfect assassin for Blackwatch. Angela and Moira's jobs were done for the most part, yet Angela had volunteered to watch over the young man. His weekly vitals were taken every Friday afternoon, and once four hours had passed with no reports of his test results, Angela was starting to get nervous. She took a trip down the lab to see what the issue was, and of course, the only person in sight was an ardently working Moira.

"Where are the test results?" Angela asked calmly, raising her eyebrows.

"The what?"

Moira hadn't even looked up from her paperwork, aggravating the Swiss doctor. "Genji Shimada's. We sent down his vitals four hours ago."

"Ah," the older clearly although wearily acknowledged, though she seemed to almost refuse to look up from her work.

The blonde loudly groaned, to which the other quirked an eyebrow at her, finally looking up. "Moira, I need his vitals. Where are they?"

She limply pointed a taloned finger at the file cabinet besides Angela. "Top drawer," she stated matter of factly.

After leafing through the results, Angela hummed to herself quizzically, whispering her thoughts to herself as she often did. "Odd... Moira, who did these tests?"

"Why are you asking?"

"The results are just odd. I mean, his vitals have been pretty stable for the past few months, so this change is unexpected."

"Hm..." the older clicked her tongue, eyes narrowing as she bore into the smaller doctor. "My work has never been good enough for you, huh?"

"What?" Angela nearly gasped, eyes going wide as she raced over to stand by Moira's work table. "No, Moira, look, his results are just odd considering his usual tests, right?" She pointed to the paperwork expectantly, a hopeful look in her eyes.

"What are you on about?" The redhead mumbled through gritted teeth, clearly annoyed and frustrated that her work had been interrupted and questioned.

"I was just observing that Mr. Shimada's results were out of the ordinary, this has nothing to do with you Moira," Angela stated plainly, the hand on her hip having dropped to lean on the table behind her.

"That's Dr. O'Deorain; You should know, Dr. Ziegler," Moira growled out as she stood from her seat, now towering over the much shorter woman. "This wasn't even my work to do, I'm far above this mere intern's labor; But out of the kindness of my heart I decided to help since our interns are out on a holiday."

"Moira, I-"

"I don't like having my work questioned, Ziegler. I know what I'm doing, finished top of my class in Dublin and Oxford," the taller smirked, licking her lower lip. "I wasn't just a child prodigy who sparkled bright enough for Overwatch to recognize my talent. I worked hard for my title and the knowledge I possess, and you think I can't do a simple blood test?"

"Moira this is completely unprofessional and I'm-"

"Oh unprofessional? You know what's unprofessional? Fucking Lacroix's wife in the medical ward while they have a battle strategy meeting in the room above with Lacroix happily talking about his sweet ballerina inbetween comments about where to implement battlefield doctors like yourself."

"Moira!" Angela screamed, eyebrows angrily furrowed as her cheeks burned a brightly passionate pink, the red head chuckling to herself as she looked down at the, in comparison, pint sized irate doctor.

"Is there something wrong with what I said?" Moira purred, a long nail coming to drag along Angela's jawline while the other set tapped away methodically on the table.

Angela took a moment to compose herself as best she could. She could feel her body sweating beneath the black turtleneck and lab coat, a tickle rising up her spine as Moira's clawed finger touched her skin. The last thing Angela hated about Moira, the thing she'd never admit to, was the fact that she was completely and utterly attracted to her. In a disgusting way to her, Angela couldn't help but imagine the lithe but toned figure beneath the dress shirt and what she was capable of, something about the danger and lack of morals drew her closer. The Swiss doctor prided herself on being as mentally strong as possible, unable to back down in the face of defeat, her shining personality always ready to beam through and save the day. It was almost like a protective layer of positivity... and the sheer negativity of Moira raising her voice for the first time in front of her had her knees shaking. Sure, she'd heard her screaming at the air and throwing beakers when her research wasn't going to plan or was getting abruptly cancelled, but she'd never heard her talk that way directly to somebody, let alone herself. Something about it was terrifying and intoxicating. Slowly, Angela swallowed and prepared her comeback.

"The only people that should concern themselves with my sex life are those involved with my sex life."

"Oh come on, Angela," Moira groaned, taking said woman by surprise yet again. "You think I didn't see you looking at me when we all used to get into uniforms in the locker rooms? You think I didn't just feel you tremble as soon as I touched you? Angela... I thought you were smarter."

The blonde woman shook, her teeth clenched behind closed lips. Her hand softly raised to touch the taller's violet tie, playing with the fabric between her fingers. She was now stuck between the table and Moira, the black slacked leg of the Irish woman pressed daringly between her legs. Ever so slightly, Moira pressed her leg further, a small grunt emitting from Angela's mouth, much to her embarrassment. The doctor shrugged nonchalantly, a slight pout to her lips as she looked up.

"You aren't putting those atrocious claws inside of or near my vagina," Angela ordered, tapping Moira's chest with a stubborn finger.

"Of course not, why would I? I have a tongue, Ziegler," Moira mocked, her low and distinct laugh echoing throughout the room.

"Just fuck me," Angela asserted abruptly, the older obeying with a smirk as she roughly pushed her back onto the table.

The force of the air as her back hit the white table sent the paperwork Moira had been so dutifully working on flying to the ground, not a care in the world coming from the scientist anymore. The two hurriedly attempted to remove as much of Angela's clothing as possible, her grey slacks falling to the floor with the rest of the papers and her barely scuffed loafers. Moira, usually one of the most calm and collected members of the team, often staying completely silent and keeping all thoughts to herself, was surprisingly impatient now that sex was on the line. She was still as egocentric and pretentious as ever, although Angela had yet to ever see a devious look to her face. As the blonde attempted to briefly sit up and remove the rest of her clothing, Moira firmly and almost inhumanely shoved her back down, instead hastily shoving up the rim of her turtleneck to bunch around her collarbones, exposing the younger's torso.

"Always thought it was wildly unfair that they shrinkwrap and suffocate such a gorgeous body," Moira lamented, delicately pushing up Angela's bra to reveal her breasts, her lanky frame hunched over Angela like a spider over its trapped prey.

"It is quite uncomfor- ah!" Angela practically squeaked in surprise as the older dove down upon her body, lips gently biting the skin of her breast. "Don't you dare draw blood," she threatened, though a hint of begging could be found behind her voice.

"I would never..." Moira assured with a purr, returning to softly nibble at the doctor's chest, tongue gliding over her nipple.

Angela could already feel a warm and subtle heat spreading through her body, as the nervous sweat from before was replaced with a gentle glisten upon her skin. Her breathing was steady, though she feared what it may become. The pain Moira had inflicted on her chest was barely of notice, the sting of her teeth like electricity every time pressure was applied. It wasn't until Moira pressed her palm between her legs that the air in her lungs suddenly felt a little sparse. As promised, the scientist kept her nails away from her body, instead using the grooves of her hand and fingers to press softly against the fabric atop her clit.

"Oh, you're already wet, Angela," she hummed, giggling to herself as she stared down upon the blonde.

"Quiet," the doctor croaked, her voice already starting to strain. Her body reacted so easily to pleasure, and she couldn't stand the though of the satisfaction adding onto Moira's insufferable ego.

The scientist laughed lightly again, trailing kisses along the curves of her breasts and torso, her nails adding pressure to the layer of fat around her stomach and hips, as if testing to see if Angela gave a reaction. Without fail, Angela's body twitched ever so slightly, and although the action was barely noticeable, Moira seemed to take far too much enjoyment out of knowing she could so simply get this reaction out of the younger. When she finally reached Angela's hips, the taller couldn't help but leap at another chance to mock the younger.

"Pastel yellow panties..."

"Moira, please," the younger begged, leaning on her elbows now as she glared at said woman.

"Ahaha, fine, fine," she said with a shake of her head, getting down on one knee and still somehow being slightly too tall.

With a quick pull to loosen her tie and a crack of her neck, she got to business. She slid the fabric down Angela's legs, winking at the blonde as she threw the underwear wayside. The doctor's legs went over her lean shoulders, Moira supporting their weight while spreading them to expose Angela's pussy. Despite being a medical professional and having seen thousands of naked bodies, the Swiss doctor couldn't help but feel massively embarrassed as her coworker received full access to everything. From the soft tuft of snowy blonde hair on her groin to the way the muscles in her legs anxiously tensed up, Moira could see all of the woman before her, and she loved every inch. Always efficient with her time, Moira ceased only paying attention to her visually and began to put her focus on where she knew Angela was surely most self conscious. Holding back the skin above, she got to work on the woman's clit, and although her tongue was barely touching the nub, it was already enough to have Angela in a frenzied state. A sharp intake of cold air stung her throat and lungs, goosebumps spreading down her body like a wave in the ocean. Moira, the oh so benevolent being she was, took pity on Angela's sensitivity to touch, and decided then to work up the volume at which she touched her. Her lips suckled gently on her clit, tongue swirling around the bundle of nerves back and forth at a rapidly changing rate, sometimes being slow and torturous while other times intense ecstasy. The bliss coursing through Angela's body was growing to be too much, and it wasn't long before she was nearly screaming out Moira's name. Her fists clenched tightly, short nails digging into the skin and surely breaking a layer or two. Her elbows glowed red from the pressure of digging them into the hard wood table.

"God! Ah- I fucking, nngh... I hate," she struggled to form a sentence, gasps and cries filling the room.

"Take your time, dear," Moira teased between licks, the cocky grin on her cheeks making Angela's blood boil.

"Just, ah... don't focus on my clit, it's too much," she whined, pleading for the good of them not being discovered in the act.

"As the lady requests," the woman obliged respectfully, artfully moving her tongue across the tender skin.

Moira could only be kind for so long, however. As soon as Angela's moaning died down to a calmer state, it was right back to getting her screaming again. Adjusting her legs on her shoulders with a quick shrug, she almost put her weight into the actions she was doing, pressing harder with her tongue against and around the younger's clit. Just like the suits they had donned in battle, even Angela's mewls were quite angelic, an almost song-like tone to them as they floated around the room and undoubtedly through the halls. At this point, the doctor could no longer keep herself up, collapsing on the table as her back arched severely. The first thing her right hand did was find its way to Moira's crimson locks, the short hair a challenge to grasp onto but nonetheless she did, holding the scientist's head against her groin as if she wasn't allowed to go until she came. And in truth, Moira wouldn't allow herself to leave until Angela came anyway. Her left hand rose up to cover her mouth, eventually resorting to biting the back of her hand to muffle the sound. Moira wasn't pleased with this, having the time of her life listening to the way she made her rival sob with bliss.

"I- I hate you- ahh," Angela whimpered out. "So- mm- so, so much! So much, Moira," she could feel her body tensing up, her stomach twisting with every second.

"You love me," Moira taunted, her grip on the woman's thighs tightening to the point of raw ruby lines forming besides her stretch marks.

"I, I- ah, oh my god!" Her body vibrated as the older took her through her orgasm, a high pitched cry muffled by her panicked hand steadily drowning out into silence. Moira, of course, took in everything, licking her lips arrogantly, as if she had won some kind of game. They stayed there in the quiet of the empty lab, the rise and fall of Angela's chest being the only noticeable movement in the room.

Once Angela's breathing evened out, an exhausted sigh escaping her lips, Moira finally stood up, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. Without a word, she gathered her coworker's fallen clothes, neatly folding them into a little pile next to Angela. She almost spent too much time setting up her shoes, Angela taking note of how they must've been at a perfect angle in proximity to something, although she didn't know what. Once she noticed Moira heading for her briefcase though, as if she was about to leave, Angela shot up.

"Wait," she called out, holding out a hand.

"Yes? Is there something you wanted to tell me?" Moira raised an eyebrow, confused.

"You are... leaving?"

"I have no reason to stay," Moira shrugged, her voice monotone as if she hadn't just spent half an hour licking her coworker.

"You'd be leaving with nothing, though."

Angela hopped off the table, disheveled and sweaty, and stood in front of the taller, looking up with a gleam in her eye.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Angela bit her lower lip, continuing to lock eye contact with Moira as she undid her belt buckle. "I'm a skilled worker with my hands," she giggled, her laugh light as air as one hand pulled at the waistband of her trousers while the other slid beneath the fabric. She clicked her tongue, as she had heard Moira do in both frustration and satisfaction many a time.

"Nngh... Ziegler," she moaned softly, Angela having never heard Moira's voice sound so gentle and vulnerable.

"Yes, O'Deorain?"

"Mmn... I loathe you."

**Author's Note:**

> wink wink wink lmao im so sorry


End file.
